Dogs of War
by Spiga
Summary: Living in Wolf Lake his whole life Scott has learned that when it comes to certain things that it's best to just look the other way and not ask questions until the night comes when he can't look away any longer. Teen Wolf/Wolf Lake fusion. Rating may rise
1. Prologue

Ahahahaha, I've started a new story even though I'm not done with Wolves on the Run. I've fallen into one of the oldest traps on the site. Oh well, at least its unique. Anywho, I've recently gotten into the series Wolf Lake, and I've been searching for a unique property to crossover with Teen Wolf. This is also to answer to Ladysilver's impassioned plea for non Derek centered stories. Expect random references to Frasier as well.

* * *

><p><em>You see that kid lying there on the forest floor with blood coming out of his mouth? A decently large smoking hole in his chest? That look on his face like he's a werewolf who's just been shot with a silver bullet? Yep, he's a werewolf who's just been shot with a silver bullet. He's not me if that's what you're wondering. I'm more handsome for one thing. All and all, this isn't really the end I had in mind for the poor little bastard when he came to me with his little problem twenty seven days ago. I've been working so damn hard to fit him into the story too, it almost seems like a waste of a perfectly interesting player in the game. <em>

_The path that led our young friend to this rather unfortunate position goes back almost a thousand years. While on a more personal level his death will be a tragedy-especially for the Lacrosse team- in the grand scheme of things if he dies tonight it will be nothing more than yet another casuality in a hidden war, waged among the shadows between two mysterious clans of supernatural creatures. This poor kid was drafted into that war when he was bitten by a werewolf and he was gunned down mercilessly by the opposing side. No consideration for the fact that this innocent sixteen-year-old has no interest in ancient blood feuds between vampires and lycans- Wait, no, that's the plot of Underworld isn't it?_

_Sorry, I got mixed up. Anyway, no ancient blood feuds between vampires and werewolves in this story just good old fashioned werewolf on werewolf violence. Three different kinds actually. Our young shape shifting hero is what is commonly called among his breed a Beta. Mostly I deal with Omegas. Omegas are prettier and less inclined to devour human flesh than Betas but they're squishier and not as boring when the full moon rolls around. And trust me when I say that when Scott McCall was bitten by a Alpha werewolf Wolf Lake became a lot more interesting…_


	2. Day Before the Wolf Moon

I'm going to be honest for a moment and alienate probably the entirety of the fanbase except one other person.

I'm not a huge Derek fan.

_But_, I realize the importance of the character in the series and recognize that most of the fanbase are huge Derek fans. So I hope to approach Derek with respect and not allow my dislike for him to color my writing. However, a word of caution to Derek lovers, for the purposes of this story Derek will be portrayed much like he was at the beginning of the series. Largely antagonistic and working towards goals which will put him at odds with the heroes, but his true purposes are mysterious. For the record, this series takes place during the timeframe of the Wolf Lakes series, so 2001 to 2002. Twas a simpler time then, before the advent of Rickroll and phones still only called people.

Derek kind of took over this first chapter, which technically should have been part of the prologue. Ah well.

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><p>Derek Hale's claws slashed open the vampire's face. It'd been a beautiful woman once, now with was just a dirty, smelly, vicious little leech. Black sludge oozed from the slashes in its face and it hissed at him through its duel rows of shark teeth. Its skin was pale, translucent and Derek could see the rotting, alien tissues and fluids inside the vampire's body. Its undead body was in a constant cycle of decay and regrowth, necrosis and restoration. Trapped in between the vitality of life and the rot of the grave, Derek did not envy the creature one bit. He put a boot in its ribs, and the vampire slumped to the dirty alley ground. Derek growled furiously down at the vampire and then struck it across the face with the back of his hand. The beta sighed, rolled his shoulders and took a deep breath, allowing his body to shift back in its human form.<p>

"You know I can hurt you, and you need to know that my Alpha can hurt your Master just as easily."

That wasn't technically true, while Derek was stronger than a drone vampire Alpha werewolves and vampire Masters were generally considered to be equal in strength. A fight between the two of them could go either way, and Derek's Alpha would rather avoid a direct physical confrontation with a Master they knew nothing about.

But the vampire didn't know that, and its devotion and love for its master would mean it would do whatever was necessary to keep him from harm.

"Please, don't hurt him." the vampire whined, its cold white eyes turning towards the werewolf.

"I don't want to hurt him," Derek said, feigning empathy. He wasn't the best actor in the world, but vampires were like crack addicts. When they're jonseing for a fix they didn't pay nearly as much attention as they should. "but you need to make him understand that if he continues to allow his children to feed and kill without restraint it puts us all at risk and my Alpha will not allow him to threaten us."

Derek pulled the vampire to its feet and slammed it against the brick wall. He jammed his claws into its cold, clammy neck.

"Can you do that? Can you deliver that message to him? If he doesn't control his progeny, we will."

"Yes, yes I understand." its voice was a sick and rattling thing, the vampire's vocal cords wet and coated thick with blood. It twisted to the side in an attempt to twist free of Derek's grasp. He felt the undead's skin bunch and tear around his claws, the skin felt as though it was made of rice pudding. He fought back the urge to gag as a heavy stench of decay erupted in a explosion of noxious decomposition gas and Derek dug in deeper, gouging into its rotten flesh until his fingertips brushed up against vertebrae. "I will deliver your message, just do not hurt the master."

"Good." Derek smiled and nodded. "Now run on home. You've fed enough this week." he wrenched his hand free, eliciting a shriek of pain from the blood sucking corpse. The noise reminded Derek of a mouse in the split second it was caught in a mouse trap. The vampire backed away, tripping over a garbage can and spilling its marginally worse smelling contents into the alley. The vampire scrambled away practically on all fours. Derek looked down at his hand, covered up to his wrist in vampire ichor, chunks of squirming, animated flesh clinging stubbornly to his skin. Rather absentmindedly he brought his gore covered hand up to his face and sniffed, much in the same way some people can't help but take in a whiff of the rotten hot dogs they found in back of their refrigerator even though they know they're going to smell rancid, then cringed and jerked away. He'd have to wash his hands before going home, knowing _she'd _be there. He knew she'd smell the vampire stink on him. She didn't know how much he knew. She didn't even know what he was. If she realized he had recently been covered in vampire blood, she might ask questions. Questions he'd have no answers for. Not yet, not now.

Derek stopped off at a gas station on his way home and rushed into the bathroom to scrub his hands clean as he often did before meeting her right after attending to…business. He scrubbed his hands and forearms raw with soap, trying to rub off not just the foul smelling fluid but the stink as well. The water mixed with the goo as it circled the drain, the bits of vampire flesh still struggling to reform and regenerate even as they wilted and decayed. The tap water, despite its dubious quality, was still a life giving element and sapped the unlife from the vampire biomass even further.

Even when the stench started to abate, he continued to lather his hands with the gritty bathroom soap and scrub furiously. It had become something a ritual. An attempt to separate his real life, the life of a powerful and predatory Beta werewolf from the illusion he had constructed with her. With her he could pretend that the dark and magical things scuttling through the shadows of Seattle had no impact on his life and in those moments, moments he had come to think of as precious, there was no ache for vengeance for a decimated family. No dull throb on his head of his secret ambitions for the alpha position, no responsibilities to a small and broken back. He did not feel the wild urge to hunt and feed and kill, and the strength of power of his werewolf body felt like a sleeping giant. He didn't want to be human, he was a born werewolf and proud of his heritage unlike the wretched cursed humans he sometimes encountered, but he felt somewhat…at peace when she was around. Not quite tamed, but content.

So he washed away the stink of violence and monsters, scrubbed his hands until they were red and raw. Cleansed himself for her. It was all a farce, a lie and one that would no doubt be shattered all to soon. The truth was going to come out eventually, either all at once or by inches.

But that would happen then, he had the present to enjoy. He would do what had to be done when the time came, but he would indulge himself in his fantasy life until then.

The stench, and the truth of his life, covered up with dirty water and cheap soap Derek stepped back to look at himself in the mirror. For a moment his eyes flashed azure and he perceived the tiniest advance of rapid hair growth along his jaw. He took a deep breath and forced a smile, but that didn't seem genuine so he allowed his face to return to its natural scowl.

Better.

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><p>Derek did not like music and he generally found talk radio insipid but there was one show that had become something of a guilty pleasure of his. Mostly because when people called in complaining about their problems it made him laugh at how good they had it without even realizing it. Punching the radio dial on his car, he was able to listen to the final minutes of the broadcast.<p>

"You're on the air with Doctor Frasier Crane. Hello Ruby, I'm listening."

Derek cocked his head, surely-

"Hello Doctor Crane, I have a serious problem. I think I've gone crazy…" Derek recognized her soft, nearly hypnotic voice even being filtered through the radio. The werewolf couldn't help but bark out a unbelieving laugh.

What the _hell _was she up to now?

"Oh, nonsense Ruby." Dr. Crane said with reassuring chuckle. "I'm sure if you were crazy you wouldn't have the presence of mind to-"

"Nope, I'm _totally _out of my mind. Completely insane."

There was the briefest moment of silence as the radio psychiatrist realized he was being played with. With a defeated sigh he asked.

"And what, pray tell, seems to be the reason for you sudden _lapse _in _sanity_?" he asked sharply.

"His name is Derek Talbot, and he has made me completely and utterly crazy about him." Ruby teased.

Derek swallowed hard, feeling powerful emotions stirring inside him for the first time in a long time. It more than shame, it was dread. Shame because he had made her fall in love with him.

And she didn't even know his real name.

The Dread was because eventually she was going to find out _everything_ about him.

"Well, Ruby, I'm sure that Derek would-"

The werewolf punched the dial hard, cutting off the rest of the broadcast. He pressed on the accelerator and sped the rest of the way home. His heart hadn't pounded this hard over a woman since…well, not in a long time. Derek knew she would be waiting for him, Ruby had a deep love for sneaking up on him and pouncing all over when he least expected it, and playing all manner of tricks and pranks on him. It had been a while since she had ambushed him at home and she had promised a surprise for him when he had left her apartment that morning. With Ruby a "surprise" usually meant either a prank or sex. Sometimes if he was lucky he'd get both.

He rounded the corner sharply, coming up on his street and saw Ruby's car parked right in front of his building. _Sloppy_. He thought to himself smugly before pulling up behind her and parking. He realized as he pulled the key out of the ignition that her the door was open on the driver's side. Maybe he'd caught her just as she was arriving. For a moment he kicked himself, he could have parked somewhere else, followed her inside and surprised her just as she was getting settled in.

Then he saw the bloody handprint smeared on her driver's side window. It was beginning to wash away in the rain and a terrible fear, cold and bitter, twisted in his chest. It bit him down to the bone, deeper than any Seattle chill ever could.

His first thought was _'Kate found me-found __**her**__.' _and he found himself standing amid the ruins of his old house again. The burnt, twisted skeletons of his parents and sisters and nieces and nephews scattered about with silver arrows sticking from their rib cages. He rushed out of his car and covered the distance to her car in two powerful strides. A thousand terrible images of what that horrible bitch might have done to Ruby's body flashed before his eyes at once, and each one made him angrier and more desperate. The thought that he could have been running head long into a trap wouldn't occur to him until much latter, and he'd kick himself for it. The fact was, when it came to Ruby, _he _was the one getting sloppy. She was making him rash and imprudent.

He stuck his head into the car, and was half climbed inside when he realized it was empty. No Kate, no Ruby.

Just a severed bloody hand laying in the passenger seat, laying in its palm was one of Ruby's favorite earrings. They were ugly and made from a gray metal, but marked with the ancient runic symbols his Alpha had said Ruby's people had an affinity for. There was another scent heavy in the car. A heavy, sweet aroma that made his fingers and the bottom of his chin itch. It was the distinctive smell omega werewolves produced when they shifted into their wolf form.

Omega werewolves like Ruby, and her "clan" back in Wolf Lake.

There had clearly been a struggle in the car and further examination revealed torn clothes in the back seat as well as gray fur all over the head rest. Derek instantly knew what happened, who was responsible for this attack and the reason behind it. With a snarl of rage Derek backed out of the car the and then slammed his fist down on top of the roof of the car, denting it. Ruby had bitten the other werewolf's hand off and then fled the far so there should be a trail of blood…

It was mostly washed away by the rain, but Derek could still track the scent. Following the smell Derek tracked it to his apartment.

'_Good girl, smart girl. Run to the apartment, you know the door is reinforced. You know I have guns there. Hunker down, call for help, hold them off, I'll be there…'_

The blood trail resumed in the apartment, it was still fresh. There was still a chance…he followed the now three legged wolf's bloody paw prints across the lobby, up the stairs and to his apartment…

The door hung open.

Derek snarled and barged inside, once more heedless of the danger.

"Ruby!" he shouted, stomping into the living room and then the kitchen. The scents where everywhere, blood was smearing the floor. The kitchen table was overturned.

No answer, silence reigned supreme in the apartment.

Except for the rapid beating of a canine heart.

Derek turned his back on the sound, instead picking up picture that had once adorned the nightstand beside his bed. It had been removed from the picture frame. It was of Derek and Ruby in the park, their second date. Derek's face had been scratched out, written in blood across the bottom was 'read the back'.

The beta heard the slightest sound of panting from the living room, but turned the card over in his hand.

"You picked the wrong bitch." Scrawled in sloppy handwriting across the back.

Derek turned just as the lanky black wolf trotted into the kitchen, eyes glowing gold, teeth bared in a throat tearing snarl. The wolf seemed to smile despite its narrow, canine jaws. It snapped its teeth, body tensed for the kill. Derek's reaction surely wasn't what the wolf had been expecting.

"You get _one _chance." Derek said quietly, but his voice was granite hard and his eyes were steely. Only his rigid posture betrayed his rage. "Just one, to tell me where she is."

The growl died in the wolf's throat. The bloodlust in its eyes was replaced with confusion.

"Is she being brought to Wolf Lake?" Derek asked.

The wolf licked its chops and its head jerked, but some of the confidence had leaked from its frame, it paced to his right as if trying to cut off his escape. Not knowing that of the two of them, it was in more danger than he was.

"Is. Ruby. Cates. In. Wolf. Lake." Derek asked again, his patience running thin. The timbre of his voice dropped with every word, becoming deeper and less human.

At the mention of the name Cates- Ruby had been living under the name Wilder in Seattle- the wolf's eyes widened in a very human way.

Derek nodded, it was all he needed to know.

"They left you behind to kill me?" Derek asked, he shrugged off his jean jacket, began to slowly stalk to his left.

The omega wolf growled, teeth bared, and stalked forward.

"A mistake…" Derek said as he felt the change come over him, his eyes stinging softly as they began to burn first of soft blue, then a raging electric azure.

The beta whirled on the omega as his body transformed in its werewolf state. More human than the omega's shape of a true wolf, his animal side was more of a human that had taken on the traits of an animal than a true lupine but as a beta he was far more powerful. Far harder to kill. The omega had no idea what it was facing and for a moment whined in fear and backed away, tail between its legs. Derek opened his jaws, his face still human but the features grotesquely exaggerated, mutated. His cheek bones and forehead bony and enlarged, dark fur creeping down the sides of his jaw and in a line down his forehead. Derek flexed his clawed fingers and roared down at the omega who returned the roar with a sharp snarl.

The two circled for a moment, the omega not quite sure what to make of the creature before it. It had probably never even heard of other types of werewolves before. It probably thought he was something else.

"Run." Derek urged, he wanted to chase this thing down like it was a squirrel in the park, show it how impotent it was against him one on one. The wolf snarled and with a grunt of effort reared up onto two legs, its shoulders and torso widening, its back legs thickening. Its forepaws became nearly human-like hands and its canine teeth elongated into fearsome saber fangs.

Derek had heard of this hybrid shape, but never seen it for himself. At seven feet tall it towered over him, and it was rather imposing. The omega flexed one hand into a fist and smirked at him. It was a wondrous creature, a anthropomorphize lupine hybrid that combined the most pleasing aspects of man and wolf. This state allowed the wolf's face, which otherwise still resembled a true wolf's, to show a greater range of human emotion. This was good. Derek wanted to see that smug, narrow face show fear and horror.

The omega werewolf looked at the beta and thought _'vampire'_.

The beta werewolf looked at the omega and thought '_dinner'_.

The two rushed each other, and blood painted the walls…

* * *

><p>Derek spat out the chunk of black fur in his mouth as he marched into the bedroom, shrugging off his bloody t-shirt and dropping it on the bed. He pulled the phone up off the receiver and dialed the number he had been given as he rummaged around for his emergency provisions. Fake ID's, wads of cash, clothes.<p>

"Derek." his alpha greeted him expectantly.

"They found her." Derek said. "They _took _her. They took Ruby."

"Who?" the alpha werewolf demanded. "_Who _took Ruby?"

"The omegas! The Wolven, her clan!" Derek shouted.

"Calm down, Derek." his alpha soothed, but Derek could hear the agitation rising in the normally unflappable voice. "Are you sure she didn't go willingly, they took her against her will?"

"Yes, I'm sure_!" _Derek snapped. "there's blood all over her car, all over my apartment…"

"This could be good for us." the alpha said simply.

Derek froze in mid stride, his eyes turned blue.

"Think about it, Derek. Her family drags her away from you, holds her against her will. And then you -her wolf in shining armor- comes crashing through the doors to rescue her from her tyrannous father and wicked stepmother. Besides, it saves you the trouble of having to coax her to reveal her true nature to you and brings you -and _us_- right to Wolf Lake's door."

"What if they kill her?" Derek asked.

"They won't. She's Willard Cates' _daughter_, remember? He's the clan leader, king of their colony, I doubt anyone would have the nerve."

Derek swallowed hard and sat down on the bed.

"Derek…are you alright?"

Derek took a moment to answer.

"I'm fine." it was a lie, and you didn't need werewolf senses to tell it.

"Eyes on the prize, Derek." the alpha reminded. "Don't forget why we did this-all of this." Derek shut his eyes and remembered their conversation the day after Derek had discovered the renegade omega in Seattle.

"I'll find her."

"Good boy." the alpha said as if speaking to a favorite dog. Derek bared his teeth at the patronizing tone but he had nothing to say…not yet.

But soon enough.

"Clean up, wait awhile. Give her some time to miss you. Absence, after all, makes the heart grow fonder…"

"Yes, I'll wait a day or so." Derek confirmed.

The alpha hung up the phone without so much as a goodbye and with a roar of fury Derek threw the phone at the far wall then dropped his things on the floor. He'd clean up…but he wouldn't wait. Derek thought for a moment then walked over to the bedroom closet, opening it. Only one other jacket hung there, and he hadn't worn it since dating Ruby. Derek eyed it, thinking of all it meant. All putting it back on would mean.

The lie, the illusion, everything had broken down.

He didn't have the time to mourn.

Derek reached inside and removed the leather jacket, setting it on the bed. He threw on another t-shirt and then set about cleaning up the apartment. Getting rid of the body-what was left of it- and the hand in Ruby's car. It took all night and by the morning he was wearing thin.

But he was not going to wait. He had picked up his jean jacket and tossed it onto the couch. As he packed up his things he brought into the bedroom with it. The jean jacket had been a gift from Ruby, he had worn it ever since. She thought the leather one made him look like a poser and she hadn't been afraid to tell him that to his face. Derek picked up the leather one, the one he had worn ever since the fire, and reluctantly slipped it on. He had lied to himself, slipping into the guise of Derek Talbot for Ruby's sake but that mask would no longer do. He would have to face the truth sooner or latter.

Derek Hale walked out the door of his apartment on his way towards Wolf Lake and left Derek Talbot to die in the bedroom.

* * *

><p>I gave the Wolf Lake werewolves the ability to take on a half way "gestalt" form that was a mix of human and wolf. For funsies.<p>

I also never named the Alpha in the story on purpose to leave it as a mystery. Who could it be? Laura? Peter? Maris?

And finally some notes about the _other _show: Wolf Lake the series was a short lived television show and only ran for nine episodes before being cancelled by CBS, UPN bought the rights but never continued the series. The show is presumably currently owned by the CW and considering the recent explosion of werewolf/vampire media seems to be ripe for revival. With most of the cast far being older and probably not at all interested in returning to the revived series however, I'm not sure I would watch it. The characters and atmosphere being best parts of the show. I found the werewolf mythology to be a bit to "Blood and Chocolate" for my liking but with the mysterious Omegas, described as the "lowliest of the wolves", of Teen Wolf's mythos being only briefly mentioned in passing during the web series, I soon realized that the two shows' mythologies were surprisingly compatible and indeed makes Teen Wolf compatible with many other werewolf series. You can find all nine episodes of Wolf Lake posted on youtube. Sadly, it was never released to VHS or DVD. I suggest watching them ASAP especially if you're a Vampire Diaries fan to see Elena's mom and boyfriend back when they were on team fur rather than team fang. The episodes have been up for a while, but you never know when they'll be gone for good. ;)

Teen Wolf is copyrighted to MTV and Wolf Lake presumably belongs to the CW.


	3. Encounter

Ah yes, my patchwork nightmare that is the fused Teen Wolf/Wolf Lake universe comes to life. I even decided to throw in a dash on vintage, Michael J. Fox era Teen Wolf with the inclusion of the Pamela character and I have toyed with the idea of having Scott take up boxing as a slight nod to Teen Wolf Too. I wouldn't count myself as a huge fan of the original movie, though I do find it enjoyable, and while I do love the TV Show I have to say I'm not sure why they felt the need to slap the Teen Wolf label onto a television series that, other than the two first names of the main characters and the concept of a teenage werewolf, has absolutely nothing in common with the films. Ah well, maybe I'll write a fic where Scott McCall runs into a grown up Scott Howard who dispenses some advice or something.

Anyway, ramble over. Time for the story.

* * *

><p>"Late late late late late!"<p>

Scott McCall was, as his constant chanting as he sped on his bicycle towards the diner indicated, late for his job. Despite the sixteen-year-old's severe asthma and generally unimpressive reputation with sports and any outdoor physical activity in general Scott was actually a somewhat competent cyclist not that he had received any recognition from either his peers or even himself. As Scott dodged and weaved around people and cars, he repeated the word over and over again. As if he acknowledged his lateness it would be something in the way of an apology, as though his desperate, wheezing exclamations of how late he was would somehow carry across some cosmic ether to find the ear's of his employer who would understand how sorry he was for being so late. How much he _needed _this job, how much his _family _needed this job. His lungs tingled and burned and suddenly felt as though they were filling up with cotton and Scott groaned miserably.

As the familiar feeling in his chest filled up his brain with a terrible awareness, crawled in from the edges of his consciousness as every breath he took to power his legs became accompanied by a louder and louder buzzing wheeze Scott wanted to scream at God, the Universe and Willard Cates himself (who might as well have been God as far as Wolf Lake was concerned.) about just how unfair this all was. Still, Scott pressed on, determined to get to his job and make himself some money even if his lungs exploded before he even walked through the door. Every breath became an aching chore as his asthma butted in to ruin his life one more time. Just like it did every time he tried to get on the high school football team, just as it did every time he tried to talk to Pamela Spencer or any girl for that matter.

Just as it did when he almost passed out when he woke up one morning to find his dad was gone.

Gritting his teeth, Scott redoubled his efforts. The weight of his inhaler in his breast pocket almost seemed to taunt him. It was so close, one puff was all it would take to delay the oncoming attack but at the speeds Scott was going to fumble for it would risk losing control of his bike and getting into a huge accident.

He stopped talking in an attempt to conserve his quickly waning lung power. He did manage to shout sorry when he almost ran down Vivian Cates on her way out of the Sheriff's office. He really, _really _hoped she didn't recognize him as he sped away from her, totally unaware that she had smelled him coming from a mile away. He internalized his guilt driven mantra, focusing on it. Trying to block out the fact that his body was once again failing him and focus on powering through it on pure willpower.

'_Latelatelatelatelatelate.' _his internal monologue blazed, it rang like a buzz saw in his mind. Blocking out everything else, including his awareness of traffic lights. _'Latelatelatelatelate-OHSHITACAR!'_

Scott had a split second to recognize the fact that that had been staring directly at the black sedan before his bike collided with it and he went flying over the hood like a missile. He belly flopped onto the hard asphalt of the road, his skull bouncing when it collided with the street. Only his helmet saved him from having to introduce his brains to downtown Wolf Lake. For a moment he lay there like a dying fish, gasping for air and totally stunned by the impact. Behind him a car door slammed shut and he heard swearing.

"You stupid, clumsy little ungulate pig-shit!"

Oh…_joy_. He could tell from the air of entitlement in that voice that he'd collided with a car belonging to someone who lived up on The Hill. Now in addition to dying alone on some street surrounded by people who didn't give two shits about him he was going to die being lectured and threatened with lawsuit by some rich Willard Cates wannabe who didn't even see him as belonging to the same species.

He managed to find the strength to roll onto his back and looked up at the hulking man towering over him. He was handsome in a thuggish sort of way, completely bald and dressed in all black. He opened his mouth and Scott ignored the fact that his teeth seemed a little _to _long and a little _to _sharp to belong to a normal person. Scott had learned in that quiet, unspoken way that everyone else in town did was that it was best to ignore certain…unique aspects of a specific segment of Wolf Lake's population, namely the ones who lived on The Hill. Scott tried to apologize, but all he managed was a rasping sound like some broken squeaky toy.

From Scott's point-of-view the man looked about nine feet tall even if he was in fact only five foot six and technically a bit shorter than the teenager. Even so the miniscule difference was negligible when the man reached down, grabbed Scott by the collar of his shirt and hauled him to his feet, spinning him around and slamming him down on the hood of the car. Scott looked around, by now everyone on the street was aware of what happened and almost everyone was looking at him. Some looked concerned, though of course they made no move to interfere. A few looked somewhat satisfied, as though being pummeled into hamburger meat by this shaved gorilla in a black leather jacket was something he deserved for being so damn careless. There were those of course, those like Jackson Whitemore as he drove past his silver sport's car his dad had gotten him for his birthday who looked sad they couldn't stop and cheer the sedan's driver on. Scott locked eyes with Jackson for a moment as the older boy drove past, and could have sworn he saw him lick his chops like a dog staring at a big juicy raw steak. Jackson's companion, a long haired boy who didn't seem to have gotten the memo that the nineties had ended two years ago when it came to his hair style and fashion sense whooped and hollered his approval. To his credit, Jackson was a bit more dignified than that and allowed his bloodlust to smolder in eyes that almost seemed to glow with his contempt for Scott. The moment was done in an instant as Jackson sped past them.

What Scott wouldn't give to see Jackson go toe to toe with the beast-man before him. Being the Co-Captain of the football team with Luke Cates, Jackson was quite buff himself. The man currently holding Scott down on the hood of his car and jamming a finger in his face seemed to be as wide across the shoulder as his car was long and Scott was pretty sure he was half Sasquatch. Scott gasped and sputtered as the man made some horrifically probable threat involving showing Scott his own spine and then mailing his heart to his parents.

"My…parents…are…" Scott choked in an intake of breath. "…seperated."

It would later amaze those who he told the story to how despite the fact that Scott had desperately trying to apologize to the man for about one agonizingly long minute only to manage to spit out some totally irrelevant fact with the few breaths he managed to form into words. The hulk-beast's face twisted up into rage at the perceived smart ass remark, and his free hand curled up into a fist that he positioned directly over Scott's head. Scott had taken plenty of beatings before, but as he saw his attacker's eyes turn a feral glowing gold he knew with some certainty that his head was about to be popped like a grape that had been hit with a cinderblock.

"Benny." A voice said from the other side of the car said calmly, and perhaps with the tiniest hint of gloating authority. It was a easy and smooth voice that echoed both with power and a kind of ease that could only belong to a person who was perfectly at ease with his power and savored exercising it like a fine wine. "Calm down, it's just a dent."

Benny's eyes faded to their normal color, he looked up at the man standing in front of him.

"Let the kid up. There's no sense in you doing time for assaulting a minor on account of a minor traffic collision."

Benny looked down at Scott, who heard the bones in his still poised fist pop as he clenched it tighter. Though he did (reluctantly) take his hand off Scott and back away the boy got the distinct impression that he was now only angrier. Scott wondered if maybe the relatively quick death of being pounded into chunky mustard in front of God and everybody would be preferable to whatever Benny's obviously very angry and very unstable mind was cooking up at that very moment.

Scott managed to slide off the hood and stand, still wheezing and gasping. He clutched his chest, entire body shaking. He heard the soft click clack of Armani shoes against cracked road and looked up to see who had saved his ass. What he saw made fear clench his guts and sucked whatever air managed to creep into his weak lungs. His legs felt rubbery as Tyler Creed wheeled his damaged bike around to meet him. Despite his genial smile through perfect white teeth there was a look in Tyler's eye, like he wanted to eat Scott's liver with a nice Chianti and some fava beans.

Tyler Creed was a well known entrepreneur in Wolf Lake. A young man, he was barely twenty five but already he had made a considerable amount of money in real estate. To much money to be only working in real estate in fact. It was generally well known among the folks of Wolf Lake both on The Hill and off that Tyler had his hands in some…shady business. It was not _quite _as well known just what he was doing. According to Sheriff Stillinski however, some of his more interesting extracurricular activities were extortion, kidnapping, murder, drug running and prostitution. And that had just been what Stiles had been able to pick up while spying on his father.

Creed strode towards Scott like some slinking, overconfident panther. A jovial malevolence in his viper's eyes. He was dressed in the most expensive clothes a small town Al Capone Junior could buy and his hair was slicked up with so much gel that Scott imagined he could use it as a deadly bludgeoning weapon in a pinch. While Scott didn't know much about Tyler's life story and frankly didn't want to Tyler was something of a textbox example of a rags to riches tale if one told the variation regarding all the murder and back stabbing along the way, a prime example of bettering your social-economic status through flagrant disregard for the law and basic human morality. Like Scott, Tyler and his own mother had been abandoned by his father. Like Scott, Tyler had once worked every day of his life to help put food on the table for a family that was broke in more ways than financially.

Still, there was no question of which was in a position of dominance over the other today and these two had no interest in swapping old stories about absent fathers today. Now Scott was just trying to focus on making it through this encounter. It wasn't just the man's reputation that frightened Scott, though that had something to do with it, it was the man himself. Tyler exuded an aura of confidence and danger that cloaked him like a dark shroud. Every movement was carefully measured, every step graceful and easy. As he had clawed and bit his way up the hierarchy Tyler had crafted for himself a persona of someone who was so sure of himself that he could very well be invulnerable and inescapable. Some people found it to be insufferable but no less daunting. Tyler's elders and superiors found it hilariously transparent if not somewhat endearing in the way it reminded them of their youth. To most though it was a thoroughly intimidating display. To Scott, it was terrifying.

"You're ah…" Tyler snapped his finger, trying to remember where he had seen Scott from before. As he did so Scott took the time to extract his inhaler give himself two quick puffs to keep himself from passing out and then replaced. It kept him from asphyxiating on his feet, but he still panted and gasped. Tyler's eyes widened with realization and his smile changed a bit. "You're Vincent McCall's boy. _Steve, _isn't it."

Rather than correcting him, Scott waved a bit, managed a tiny choked hello.

"I'm Tyler Creed." Scott nodded, smiled a bit though it was forced. "I knew your father back when he worked with Willard."

Scott flinched a bit as Tyler mentioned knowing his father. Tyler noticed, he seemed amused by it.

"Tough break kid, your dad skipping town on you." Tyler leaned Scott's bike against the car and placed a hand on Scott's shoulder. "How are things going?" Tyler's voice was like the beautiful calm of the ocean. Its seemingly glassy, temperate surface hid hungry sharks circling beneath. Creed wasn't the kind of person who stopped to chat with every fatherless kid in Wolf Lake, even one his flunky had been about two heartbeats away from pulverizing.

"Things are…going." Scott said.

"Yeah, I hear you." Tyler said with a chuckle. "Look, uh, there's no need to tell anyone about this, huh?" They were surrounded by witnesses and Tyler's car was blocking traffic but Scott was not about to argue with the man. Tyler patted Scott's shoulder in some mocking parody of a fatherly gesture and as Scott slipped his inhaler back into his pocket Tyler's hand followed. A green, suspiciously rectangular piece of paper following glided in after his inhaler as if by magic. "Look, Stevey… if you're ever looking to make some extra cash why don't you give me a call I'm sure I could find something for a healthy young man for you to do."

Scott wheezed in response.

Tyler found this amusing too.

"I already have a job." Scott managed, though every breath was labored he was speaking somewhat normally. Behind him, Benny's knuckles cracked. Scott managed a weak smile. "Sorry."

"Well, if you ever want to make some _real _money." Tyler handed Scott a card, which he pocketed. "Call this number, ask for Bianca. She'll let me know you're interested and I'll have one of my boys set you up for a job."

"Wow, thanks Mr. Creed." Scott said. _'Thanks, but I'm not sure my mom would be okay with me being a drug mule.'_

Tyler smiled down at Scott, and turned to walk back to his car. Scott grabbed his bike and beat as hasty retreat, Benny's eyes glaring holes in his back as he fled.

* * *

><p>"What the hell was that?" Tyler demanded as Benny drove him the rest of the way to their destination.<p>

"Sorry boss." Benny said quietly.

"I don't want to see you loose your shit in public again, you hear me? The last thing I need to deal with is you caving in some ungulate runt's skull in in front of half the town you stupid goon."

"Sorry boss." Benny's grip on the steering wheel tightened.

"I have enough trouble as it is with that fucking Sheriff sticking his snout in my business, I can't turn around without him in my face. He knows who you are and that you work for me, he probably has a pretty good idea of what you do for me too. So learn some self control you jackass."

"Sorry boss." Benny swallowed hard, his ears burning. Cheeks turning red.

"I am this close. _This _close to the throne. I can practically taste it, what I don't need is any of you" you glared at the rearview mirror, at the two people sitting in the back seat. "_any _of you fucking it up now." Tyler sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fucking morons."

"You should have just stuffed the kid in the trunk." Brian opined from directly behind him. "Could have used the snack."

Tyler thought for a moment then shrugged.

"Nah, killing the kid a year after I killed his father and made it look like he ran out on him is probably bad karma or something. I don't need the jinx." Tyler said jokingly. Everyone in the car chuckled but Benny.

The black sedan sped away from the town, heading towards the Cates' mansion and Tyler's prize.

* * *

><p>You know, this certainly should be longer as it stands it's basically <em>a<em> scene. I originally _intended _for it to be longer, but considering how long I took to rewrite this chapter and how damn happy I am with the thing I figured I could put it up. As you read this, I'm probably working on chapter three which I _promise _will be longer.

Until then.


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